


Unexpected Sweetness

by emeraldfrog3



Series: Hawke Just Had That Effect [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Drunk Hawke, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, POV Multiple, Sparring, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 09:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5579902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldfrog3/pseuds/emeraldfrog3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life never seems to go smoothly for Hawke, but everyone once in a while there is a few moments of happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Sweetness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rayna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayna/gifts), [SilentSlayer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentSlayer/gifts).



> This little bit of happiness was for Rayna who insisted that I started playing Dragon Age and therefore is ultimately responsible for all of this, and SilentSlayer who has encouraged me to continue following the plot bunnies.
> 
> Edit: I've been playing with my Tevene; which is basically Latin with horrible grammar! Also, I've been playing with some html. I hope you enjoy.

“Can I help you redecorate?”

Hawke stood in his doorway with a bottle of what look like red wine. Her words were playful, but her tone was rough and her smile slightly strained.

“My door is always open for you, Hawke.” Fenris beckoned her into the room lit with a small fire.

She stomped past him and slammed the bottle down on the table. Groaning, she took a deep breath to calm herself. Fenris tried to keep his face straight, but couldn't help the grin that twitched at the corner of his mouth. It was odd to see her riled up. Even after mourning for Bethany and moving into Hightown, Hawke’s first language was sarcasm and her wit still her primary line of defense.

“Sorry, I just needed to get out of there. That bloody-backstabbing-nug-humping-dwarf tried to extort more money from me! In front of Mother!” Hawke kicked at a chair in frustration, sending it skidding across the floor. Fenris raised an eyebrow at her, the smile growing on his lips.

“Not Varric, Dougal the arse hat that fronted some of the money for the expedition. He even threatened to frame me for Bartrand’s disappearance!” She grabbed the chair she had kicked and pulled it forcefully back to the table.

Fenris watched her as she raged at the furniture. It was a rare occasion that Hawke did not make jokes about a situation, but he was learning that when it came in endangering those she called family, she was always deadly serious. He knew that she needed to cool off, so he grabbed his gauntlets and sword before leaving the room.

“Fenris! Where are you going?! I want to rant at you and drink wine!” Hawke yelled and followed him until he stood in the middle of the empty great room.

“You need to work out your rage. We can drink after.” He tightened the straps on his bracers and made sure his gauntlets were sitting correctly. He looked up at her with an expectant smirk and drew his sword.

She stood at the bottom of the stairs, eyeing him for a long pause. Uncertainty flashed in her eyes as she considered the situation. Maybe Fenris was right.

“I’ve never sparred with live steel.” Hawke cautiously drew her daggers as she closed the space between them.

“You attack, I will defend,” Fenris' smirk now fixed on his face as he widened his stance into a deep defensive guard.

Hawke raised an eyebrow, contemplating his words as she gave her daggers a twirl, testing their balance. She nodded with a deep breath as she tapped her blade against his, giving him the signal that she was ready to begin.

Metal crashed and set the hall ringing as Hawke started a standard attack pattern. Fenris kept pace with her easily, his smirk turning into a predatory grin as she moved faster. She was a force of nature in battle: beautiful, unpredictable, and deadly. He had wanted to test her ability against his since their first job together.

Sweat started to bead on Hawke’s brow and she snarled in response to his grin, annoyed that he looked so relaxed as he parried her blows. Determination burned across her features as he watched the battle fury take her over. Her movements became sloppier as they danced around the room. She started to take risks to land a strike against him, leaving herself open. Fenris finally took advantage of her lax finesse.

A dagger struck his sword and he stepped into her attack, catching the blade with his guard and twisted it, causing her blade to go skittering across the floor. She swung wildly with her other knife, but he seized her wrist and she cried out in rage. He dropped his steel as he hauled Hawke backwards, forcing her against the wall. His hand pressed into her chest as she struggled against his hold. She screamed with frustration but stopped struggling. Fenris had won, and she was now pinned beneath him.

His clawed gauntlet just brushed her throat, and her chest heaved from the exertion of their sparring. They both stood there, inches apart, adrenaline still pumping. He could feel her muscles taut under his hand. Her lips were slightly parted as she panted. His mouth went dry as he wondered if her lips were as soft as they looked or if they tasted as sweet.

“I guess it’s no surprize that I can’t match you one-on-one.” Her saucy smile, coupled with her more relaxed tone, snapped Fenris out of the trance he was it.

“If you had not held back, you could have had me.” Fenris’ voice rumbled with annoyance as he released her and stepped away. He tried to reassure himself that her restraint in battle was the cause of his irritation. No other truth would allow itself to be entertained in his mind.

“Next time, we’ll get blunted weapons and I will have you. But this was a good idea. Thank you, Fenris.” Hawke’s voice was quiet as she muttered her appreciation. She tried to fill the awkward pause with action as she shrugged and picked up her daggers from where they had been knocked. She ran her hands through her hair and shook some of the dampness out from her earlier exertion.

“Now to drink some fine wine?” He suggested, grabbing his sword to sheath it. He needed to get his thoughts off the way she moved, still so graceful even in defeat.

“I’ll beat you there!” She shrieked as she charged up the stairs two at a time, making him chuckle as he followed at a more leisurely pace. Her enthusiasm always had a way of delighting him.

By the time Fenris arrived, Hawke was freeing the cork from the bottle she had brought. He laid his gauntlets carefully on the table and smiled at how well the exercise had brought back her fine humour. Her demeanor was relaxed. She was grinning at him now from where she perched herself on his table.

“At least, I can beat you in foot races and drinking.” Hawke was giddy as she held out the bottle at arm's length, swinging it in his face as if to taunt him.

“So you say.” Fenris grabbed the drink from her and took a deep swig before offering it back.

* * *

 

Marian groaned softly as she shifted, suddenly finding the bench digging into her ribs uncomfortable. She grinned over at Fenris who was dozing across from her. He had told her she was ridiculous for traipsing around the mansion to gather all the soft cushions and blankets she could find before dumping them in front of the hearth in his room. That had been around opening the fourth bottle. He did not understand the allure of a blanket fort, but she was too drunk to engineer one then. Now, she was starting to think too clearly.

Marian looked around her, eyeing, at least, two _empty_ bottles within reach. Then she spotted the one in Fenris’ grip that looked like it still held some liquid. She stared at the bottle. Yes, it was half full and she wouldn’t have to stand up to get it. She rolled closer to the elf, onto her knees and stretched across him to grab her prize from his hand.

As her hand closed around his, Fenris stirred. She froze, unsure how he would react to her basically strewn across his lap. There was a soft rumble from his chest and she slowly looked up at his face. He looked back at her, his eyes heavy with sleep and a soft smile that caused warmth to grow in her chest.

“Gustusne suavis?” Fenris rumbled. For a moment time felt like it crawled. He pushed the drink further away which caused her to lose the little balance she had. She fell into him gently. At the same time, his fingers lightly brushed along her jaw, tilting her face to his.

Their lips met and the caress was soft as a feather, sending exquisite sparks from their connection down her spine. She sighed from his touch, her heart pounding from both excitement and fear. If she moved, would it break the spell of the moment? Would he be angry with her proximity?

Fenris kissed her again with a methodical air. His fingers slid up her jaw until he was cupping her cheek, his palm cool against her burning blush. His tongue ran across her bottom lip, demanding entry. Fenris was confident, and all her apprehension melted away as she opened to give them both what they desired.

Marian closed her eyes, her hands coming to rest on both sides of him as she surrendered, enjoying his unadulterated passion. He tasted fruity and buttery like the red wine he preferred with a heady hint of spice. Her heart pounded in her ears as his teeth pulled every so light at her bottom lip before he broke away. She panted for air, not realizing that desire had stolen her breath.

“Quam suavis,” Fenris purred with pleasure, his eyes almost closed as he stroked her hair tenderly. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her halfway into his lap. The forgotten wine bottle pressed into her back, but she hardly noticed as he nuzzled into the top of her head with a deep sigh, his breath slowly ruffling hair. Fear of breaking the moment pumped through her heart once again but, she reminded herself that she had to breathe.

Marian had always felt there was a likeness to a wounded animal about Fenris. He startled when touched and bristled when shown affection. She chided herself for not being slow and non-threatening but, she had already come this far so she allowed herself to settle into bliss. She relaxed into his arms, tucking her head against his chest, his heartbeat surprisingly relaxing as she drifted off. Now was not the time for worries and doubts to seep in. When they woke up she could simply blame being drunk, but in this moment Fenris was hers.

* * *

 

Fenris felt warm, that was the first thing that struck him as unusual. His head pounded, which was not astonishing considering he had challenged Hawke to a drinking contest; but being warm was just out of place, strange but nice.

“Mnhh ahnn mmnn?”

His eyes shot open and he looked down at Hawke nuzzling against his chest. His arms were wrapped securely around her. He tensed, his ears starting to colour as his brain woke up. Early morning light was filtering through the windows, and he realized he had spent the entire night sleeping with Hawke. He felt the colour burn its way from his ears onto his cheeks as he tried to think of what to do.

Hawke sighed but did not wake any more than just enough to adjust positions. Her black hair fell away from her face. She looked completely innocent as she slept. She smelled so good, and he hated the thought of having to let her go.

Fenris made up his mind. It wasn’t right to hold her like this. Slowly he moved the wine bottle that leaned against his leg, careful not to disturb her too much. He waited a moment to make sure that she would not wake, then he tenderly shifted her to the cushions beside them.

“Grmmn mmnf.” She protested incoherently as he pulled one of the comforters over her, tucking it around her.

He leaned back, letting the cold morning air wash over him. They had been drunk. She would not think anything of it. Hawke hung off of Isabela and Varric all the time. She flirted casually and never thought anything of it, this had not been any different. He focused to slow the thud of his heart as he reasoned with himself.

His mind betrayed him, recalling the sweet taste of her mouth like summer berries and her warmth radiating through him as she leaned into his arms. Perhaps he did not have to let go quite yet. Fenris pulled the pillows closer around them as carefully laid back down next to Hawke. Cautiously, he made sure that he was not against her, but couldn’t resist lightly placing his arm around her over the blanket. All his experience told him it was foolish to feel like this about her, it was only another way that he could be manipulated. A smile grew on his lips as he decided that it did not matter. He would watch her back for as long as she would let him. That was, at least until Danarius came, but he could not think about that yet.


End file.
